Leo and his pride

With Leo as the constellation of stars on the horizon at the time of Gerard Baden-Clay’s birth, his personality was set. The ascendant of his horoscope wheel is 17degrees Leo. The Sun is the ruler of the zodiac sign of Leo and so the well known traits were there all ready for him to tuck into his old kit bag – a sunny disposition; an upturned round-ish face reflecting the Sun; a mane of golden hair (going bald just would not do for a Leo); his little chest puffed out with pride. How could it all go wrong?

Lions and Pride, that’s what went wrong. Leo personalities live with the ‘pride’ image up on the wall. Some discard it all as a lot of old cods wallop; a load of rot. Others have it drilled into them, especially if they have overly-proud parents as their nurturers.

In my opinion, British colonialism has a lot to answer for in this regard… Pride was exploited to the ‘enth degree. Do I need to make a list of the exploitation of the lion in symbolism? I doubt it.

Maintaining a pride of lionesses – a wife and three daughters could have fulfilled that dream for Gerard Baden-Clay. Was he excessively proud? Probably. Spending the first ten years of his life in Africa does not make him a lion. The accused equates himself with the lion a bit too much, me thinks.

Pride and curses and revenge fill many a mythological story of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Let me share Homer’s story about when the Sun became enthralled by Venus, but before I do, a little background:

The planet Venus is that first bright star we see in the sky every evening and also the last star we see before the Sun rises. We call them the Evening Star and the Morning Star, however in reality both stars are the planet, Venus.

The story is relevant to our purposes here, as the personality of Gerard Baden-Clay is bound up with the Leonine Sun; Venus is his Achilles heel and the planet Mars in the heavens on the night of 19 April, 2012 was in exact alignment by conjunction to his natal Mars.

Mars will be the subject of my next post, but for now though, we have the lion by the tail and there is no way I am going to let go. And so to the other tale:

As the morning and evening star, Venus was most likely the first and last thing the Sun saw before retiring for the night so who could blame him (the Sun) for blurring the separation at nightfall, taking the vision of Venus with him into his dreams.

The Sun often rose too soon and Venus would have slipped away, sometimes he rose too late to catch sight of her and often he sank beneath the ocean at the end of the day, lingering to look upon her beauty. The Sun became enthralled by Venus.

One morning as two lovers dallied as they tend to do, the Sun caught sight of their embrace. Revealed, the object of his love Venus, was entwined with Mars, the God of War. Pride raised the hackles on the back of his neck. His mane bristled. The Sun was not going to put up with this – Venus was… a married woman!

We are not told of the affairs of Venus in the modern era, however she was married to the god, Vulcan. We know of Vulcan as the Roman God of Fire (think volcanoes and black-smiths).

The Sun had loved the married Venus from afar, as a gentleman would, whereas Mars had seduced his Venus under the cover of darkness, a cowardly act in the Sun’s eyes. Curses simmered under his fiery breath. His chest puffed out with pride. He became indignant.

Seething with jealousy, the Sun contrived to betray his rival by sending word to the husband of Venus of the affair. Her husband, Vulcan flushed with rage when he heard the news and planned a way to ensnare the lovers.

Vulcan heaved his great anvil into its place, and began to forge a chain mesh with the skill of his blacksmith’s hands. A mesh so fine that not even a god would be aware of its presence. Vulcan had not wasted his time at Arachne’s feet where he had learned the skill of the weaver. With the fine net woven and set up to respond to the lightest touch, the slightest movement, Vulcan secured the mesh over the marriage bed. He set his snare.

Casually announcing that he had been called away to Lemnos, Vulcan left his palace only to return by a side door. Venus, in her lust, hastened to send word to her lover, Mars that an opportunity was theirs for a further tryst. Mars threw caution to the wind and rushed to her embrace.

As the lovers entwined on the marriage bed, the trap was sprung, hauling them both into the air. Enmeshed Venus and Mars’ coupling was exposed, thus making a fine tale and much merriment for the Olympian theatre.

Venus did not forgive the Sun for exposing her, causing him much unhappiness in the domain of love.

‘Tis not a good idea to mess with the affairs of Venus.

What has all this got to do with Gerard Baden-Clay? On 19 April, 2012 the Sun in the sky was conjunct his M.C, the mid-heaven of the accused’s birth wheel; directly opposite to his Venus and in hard square aspect to transiting Mars as he rushes headlong towards his fate.